Kneeling for a Second 116

Chapter 116 

The private room was bustling with noise and chatter. 

Sebastian immediately drew everyone’s attention when he appeared. He nodded politely to 

everyone. 

They were having a class reunion that night, which was organized by Chandler and their class 

monitor. 

Even though Class B and Class C were next to each other back then, Sebastian had no memory of these people after so many years. The only one he still remembered was Chandler. 

But these people all remembered Sebastian. After all, they were from Nueve High School, and there was no way anyone from their year would forget Sebastian. 

Chandler quickly walked over and greeted, “Mr. Grant, you’re here. Come take a seat.‘ 

Sebastian took a seat on the black leather couch. He had scanned the room the moment he entered, and hadn’t seen Valeria. The large private room could accommodate dozens of people. It had card tables and a pool area. 

Among the faces of his former schoolmates, Sebastian spotted Salem. 

Just thinking about how Jane had once given Salem a love letter made Sebastian’s expression 

sour. 

Salem had been on the basketball team. Back at Nueve High School, he had his fair share of 

fangirls. 

Their eyes met, and Salem walked over with a drink in hand. “Mr. Grant, it’s been a while.” 

The Jones family ran an e–commerce business and was the biggest shareholders at an e- commerce center between Slate City and Broburgh City. 

Sebastian sat on the couch, stretching his legs onto the footrest with an indifferent expression. 

He had no interest in rekindling any past ties with Salem, and Sebastian wasn’t one to bother with superficial pleasantries either. He merely nodded at Salem and took a sip of his drink. 

Next to him, Mark, who had always been the best at handling social situations, slung an arm around Salem’s shoulder and said casually, “You used to be in Class B, right?” 

Mark had also attended Nueve High School. 

Since they were kids, Mark and Simon had always liked following Sebastian around. But Mark hadn’t been a strong student. He merely coasted through school. His family had donated a library to Nueve High School, and he had blended in comfortably with the underperforming 

Chapter 116 

students. 

“Mr. Jones just came to liven things up tonight,” Chandler said with a smile. He opened a bottle of Château Latour, ready to refill Sebastian’s glass. 

But Sebastian lightly pressed a hand over his glass and said hoarsely, “It’s pretty lively tonight. 

17 

Chandler stood by with the wine bottle. His posture was respectful as he watched Sebastian’s expression and said, “It’s rare for everyone to gather like this. It’s so hard to get the high school mates together, and not everyone managed to make it. It’s been so many years, and everyone’s changed a lot.” 

“Sebastian, do you remember me? Back in senior year, our classes swapped papers for grading and you marked mine. I’m Sarah Chambers.” Two women walked over with their arms linked. One of them had a touch of shyness on her face. 

Sebastian had no recollection of her, and he had never been someone who cared much about saving face for others. He was well–known for being distant. He merely said flatly, “I don’t remember.” 

Chandler chuckled to ease the awkwardness. “Well, it’s been so many years. How could Mr. Grant possibly remember?” 

Sarah’s smile faltered slightly as she left, looking a little embarrassed. 

It was a brief, awkward interlude. 

Sebastian had no idea why he was even here. 

Mark came over and asked if Sebastian wanted to play poker, but Sebastian shook his head. 

He lazily swirled the glass in his hand, watching the liquid slide along the inner wall. All the excitement and noise around him felt completely irrelevant. 

Sebastian rubbed his brow. He didn’t even understand his own behavior that night. 

She had already turned him down, and yet just hearing her name had brought him right to her class reunion. 

Sebastian chalked it up to having drunk too much. 

Though truthfully, he hadn’t had much. He only drank two glasses, which wasn’t enough to make him drunk. His tolerance wasn’t that poor. 

He let out a self–deprecating chuckle and shook his head, skimming the unfamiliar faces 

around him. 

Then he stood up and got ready to leave.